


074 - Pointless Smut Tbh

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-16
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-10-11 04:41:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17440127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompts “do you think you could write a kinda smutty fic where van fingers you under the table or something when the lids are around but they don’t know?” and “Could you write about the sexual frustration of reader?”





	074 - Pointless Smut Tbh

**Author's Note:**

> I literally couldn’t logistically figure out the table thing, so we’re going for a cuddle on the couch and a blanket. But same deal.

You always marvelled at how the guys never got sick of each other. Yeah, they bickered every now and then, but even when home from tour they'd still spend a lot of time together. Take right now, for example. They'd flown back into town this morning, and after a few hours seeing the folks and the girlfriends, somehow they had all gravitated back to Van - like he was the centre of not only your universe but theirs too. You'd only just got home from seeing Mary and Bernie, and had yet to spend any time alone with Van. Van, who you were aching to touch and be touched by. Van, who is standing in your lounge room holding the blanket you requested while telling a story about a kid that he'd meet after a show in the U.S. You reach out for both him and the blanket with grabby hands. He smiles, and returns to his place next to you on the couch. You burrito yourself up in the blanket and keep listening to them tell stories.

Over the course of an hour, your position changes to be in Van's lap. He's sitting on the couch in the place closest to the end, and you're stretched out over the whole seat. His arm is wrapped around your back as your cuddle into his chest. The blanket is over you and you're falling asleep. Van leans down and kisses your forehead. "I missed you," he whispers and you nod. "And I love you."

"You missed me and you love me and yet we're still not alone," you whisper back, not opening your eyes. He makes a sound that is almost like a chuckle but isn't fully formed. He kisses your head again. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" he asks, like he doesn't know what you're talking about.

"Stop kissing me and touching me if it's not gonna do anything," you whine, still in a whisper. The others haven't left the room but are engaged in a game of Fifa. You marvel at how they never get sick of that, too. Bondy is commentating the game, despite knowing the least about football. His lack of care comes out in the narration and it would be making you laugh if you weren't feeling a confusing combination of sleepiness and lust.

"Not gonna do anything?" Van repeats. He laughs properly and tilts your head up to kiss you on the lips. You don't kiss back out of spite and he smiles as you glare at him.

You don't know if they think you've fallen asleep, but the guys start to talk about how everyone's been while they were away. Specifically, how the girlfriends have been. Even more specifically, how the reunions went. Listening to them talk about fucking should be awkward because they're like brothers to you, but it only serves to make the warmth between your legs turn hotter and the ache in your back feel sharper. You start to move, pretend to be waking up slowly, and the conversation quickly switches to something different. You get up and go to the kitchen. Van follows.

He leans against the door frame and watches you kill time by making a pot of tea that you'll never drink. You look over at him. He's barefoot and his white shirt is only halfway buttoned. He wriggles a finger at you, a command to come. You want to ignore him but you can't. You stand in front of him and let him lean in and kiss your neck. Your hands hold onto his shirt and your knees feel weak. Van's hands slide under your shirt and start to roam. The kettle makes a high pitch yell and you jump out of your skin. Van pulls away laughing.

"Fuck you," you say.

"You wish, apparently?" he says in his best fuckboy voice and walks out of the room. You would have been better off going to bed early and waiting for him to wake you up at 3am with his hands in your pants.

Back in the lounge you pour the tea and hand it over to the guys. Larry says something about missing loose leaf tea and they all hum in agreement. They're just so weird. You sit next to Van, but he pulls you back into his lap and onto your side so you're close to him and the others can't really see you under the blankets and Van's arms. Van keeps one hand visible to the room; mostly because he needs it to speak. Half of all communication from Van is made in body language. The other hand though, comes under the blanket with you and rests wedged between your legs.

Van's thumb runs circles on your skin, and even though your face is buried and you can't see him, you know he smiles when goosebumps break out. His hand slides out from between your legs and he runs his knuckles up and down your thigh. If you were alone, you'd be pushing him between the soft material of your underwear and the warmth of your skin. You imagined what it would feel like. The pressure. The heat. The build up. The release.

You shudder when Van's hand ghost over your underwear. His arm over the blanket around you pulls you in closer. The movement of your whole body makes you aware of your surroundings again; draws attention to the fact there are four other people in the room. Their attention clearly hasn't turned to you though. Conversation is still flowing freely. Van's hand finds the top elastic band of your underwear. He runs a finger under it from hip bone to hip bone. You can feel your cheeks going red. It's too hot under the blanket but if you move, even a tiny bit, Van will stop. Stay still. That's the game.

His hand slides under the material, and you breathe through your nose as he tickles through your pubic hair. You still remember the day you decided to stop waxing it all off, and how Van did not care. He was undoing all the preconceived ideas you had about 'what boys want in a girl.' It was good, to say the least. 

You don't hear what is said, but Van replies and joins the boys' conversation.

"Nah, mate, you are dreaming. He won't bring anything this season," he says in a voice that tells nothing of what is happening under the blanket. As he speaks, he teases and it takes every single ounce of self-control to not push yourself onto his fingers. Larry says something, then Bob. "He's a fucking idiot," Van says at the exact moment one finger slips into you. You squeak.

"Is she asleep?" Larry asks.

"Yeah. She sleep talks… and makes sounds and stuff," Van replies. It might be true, but it's probably a lie. Whatever it is, it is accepted. They go back to football and drinks.

Van moves slowly at first, testing to see what it takes to make you shiver and squirm. Once there is a boundary line, he sets the pace. You feel your lungs aching for more air, and you open your mouth for oxygen. Your feet curl and you ball your hands into fists around the blanket and Van's shirt. Someone lifts your legs without warning, just enough for them to sit on the couch. Their arms rest over you. They're only a metre away at most, and they still don't detect the sleaze. Their so-close presence makes it better, and you realise you're totally getting off on the proximity of the others. There is risk and danger and dirtiness.

The touching isn't enough to make you reach orgasm, but the pleasure still clouds your mind and puts a stupid smile on your face. Van leans down and kisses the side of your face; the only part of you visible under the blanket. His mouth lingers over your skin, and his hand is still in you.

"You alright babe?" he whispers. You give the tiniest of nods. "Do you want me to put you in bed?" You shake your head no. You don't want to be separated from him. "Are you sure? I'll read you a bedtime story?"

"Is that code?" you whisper back.

"It might be,"

"Super creepy code,"

"Yeah. Didn't think it through. Come on, though," he says and his hand slides from you and down your leg, leaving a probable trail of slick. It makes you feel gross and good at the same time. You sit up a little and look around the room. Bondy is next to Van, and as you make eye contact he smirks a little too hard. Maybe… 

"Just gonna tuck this one in, lids," Van announces. You stand up on shaky legs and say a collective goodnight. Van takes your hand and walks you to the bedroom.

Your body is ready to give in and soon after Van crawls under the covers and pulls your legs tight around his head, it does. You're sleepy and sated. He kisses you and you can taste yourself on his lips. He closes the bedroom door behind him and you fall asleep listening to the sounds of your adopted family in the next room.


End file.
